DNA
by IcyMoonOnStage
Summary: John Watson didn't have the best of childhoods. What happens when his father, who was supposed to be in prison comes back? Warnings: child abuse, murder and an attempt of murder.
1. Chapter 1

Johh grew up in hell.

And no, it was not an exaggeration.

He was raised by a depressed mom and an abusive alcoholic father. His sister, mother and him were always on edge whenever his poor excuse for a father was around, because you can never tell when he's gonna explode.

But John was born a soldier, and he woud rather sacrifice himself for his family than see his mom and little sister get hurt. That always resulted with him having to hide the bruises from curious looks, and with a suspicious amount of trips to the ER.

Of course, there were a few times he couldn't protect them. Like right now.

"MOM!" John yelled, dropping his schoolbag by the door, and running to the kitchen. His voice was filled with rage as he threw himself at his father who was currently bashing his mom's head against the wall. "Let her go!"

He distracted him enough for Harry to quickly drag his mom away from the furious monster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His spit flew everywhere, his eyes were glazed and his voice was slurred. He's drunk.

"I said," John straightened himself,"Let her-."

He was interrupted by a fist connecting to his nose. The force of the punch was strong enough to throw him off balance.

"I don't think you're in the position to be demanding anything" His father's breath was hot, and smelled of alcohol. "Now be a good boy and don't yell too loud."

With that a punch followed to his stomach and to his cheek. Not willing to show any fear or panic he spat blood all over his father with a week grin on his face. All the time he had to keep reminding himself he was doing it for his mom ang Harry.

His father became even more furious, if that was possible. John's grip of consciusness was weekeing by then, so he doesn't really remember everything.

All he remembers were red and blue lights, a loud siren, and his sister's sobbing.

Next time he woke up was in a hospital bed, tired and groggy.

The doctors at first seemed hesitant to explain what happened, but soon they told him everything. His mom had life threatening injuries and didn't even make it to the hospital while his father was under arrest for murder and child abuse.

That was the first time he had a panic attack.

When John and Sherlock first slept together, Sherlock discarded the scars as old war wounds. If it was someone else, he would already deduce the origins of them the first time he saw them. But this was John. His John.

When he thinks back to that memory now,he realizes how oblivious he was just because he did not want to believe it. Oh, how he wishes he was as cold and heartless other people think he is. But he's not.

When John and Sherlock started officially dating, Sherlock noticed some details he surprisingly never saw before. Like how even though it seems like John and Harry hate each other, they have a stronger bond than most siblings. Whenever Harry calls him drunk, John always, no matter the circumstances, drops everyting and goes to pick her up. Whenever either of them get hurt, the other makes sure to offer comforting words and touches that only they now the meaning of.

John would never back down from a case that would make even professionals want to throw up their lunch. He was on the receiving end of many punches and hits, yet he never flinched. But, if there's yelling and insulting going on, he would shrink into himself, unnoticeable to those who do not look for it, and subtly back away from the situation.

And, maybe the most alarming one, the fact that he never mentions his parents. Even Sherlock mentiones his family and childhood a few times, yet every time someone mentioned his parents he shut himself off and changed the topic.

To say the least, the blogger intrigued him.

Easy to say, the man on his armchair was not a normal client. He was an older man, probably about 60, his hair was dirty blond, his clothes tidy and bought recently. The buzz cut and his straight back meant military service, the fading mark of a wedding ring on his finger indicates he took it off 5 to 6 years ago, from a divorce or the death of a spouse. He did not look like the kind of a man who would buy a whole outfit all at once, which means something happened to all of his old clothes. The scar on his-

"Ah, you must be the famous Sherlock Holmes!" The man's voice interrupted his deduction. He was looking at him like it was perfectly normal to come in unannounced to their flat while he was out for a grocery run. Which, well, it kind of was. He has to have a chat with Mrs Hudson about acceptable guests.

"And who, if I may ask, are you?" While he talked he put the groceries away and mentally reminded himself about the gun in John's room.

"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet." His eyebrows raised, "I mean, you are pretty popular by your abili-"

A loud crash interrupted him from the doorway. A shaking John was standing there, his bags on the floor beside him. By his reaction, everyone would guess that he knew the man, but only when he spoke did the pieces of the puzzle started connecting. His voice was layered with shock and fear as his mouth formed one word Sherlock thought he would never hear John say. Just one word:

"Dad?"


	2. Chapter 2

Why can't he just have one normal day? Is that too much too ask? Just one bloody day where John can relax with his boyfriend and forget about all the blood and violence they've seen.

And he knows that the universe hated him but this, what the hell did he do to the universe for it to do this.

His dad, who was supposed to be locked up and rotting in a cell somewhere, was in his flat, his safe place and was currently talking to Sherlock.

What the fuck?

"John! My boy! I've missed you" The monster that haunted so many of his nightmares was looking at him like nothing happened. Like they're a normal family.

"John, are you okay?" Sherlock asked, but John didn't really pay attention to him right now.

All that was on his mind was his father. He thought he got over it, but now his worst memory was playing on repeat with every emotion resurfacing again like it never left. He felt like that scared little boy again, he felt the grief of his mother's death, the fear his father planted in him, the protectiveness over his little sister, the guilt because he could have stopped it. If he was just a little faster, a little stronger, a little smarter he would have saved her.

His father was smiling at him with concern in his eyes, but John knew him enough to know that it was just false concern covering up the hate he always felt, even when sober.

"Why are you here?" His voice sounded young, but it was possible that it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

"I wanted to see you." He stood up and got one step closer to John as John got one step futher from him. In the back of his eye he could see Sherlock approaching both of them, ready to interfere if necessary.

"You've seen me. Now you can leave." He doesn't know where he got the courage to stand up to him, but he knows that it was the wrong thing to do as his father's facade started falling apart.

There were some days he asked himself if he remembered his father wrong. Maybe he imagined it all, I mean he was 6 years old. But now, staring at the rage filled eyes all over again, he knows it really happened.

"Don't talk back to me, boy"

Sherlock was about to step in when the front door opened and Lestrade walked in, oblivious of the tense situation unfoalding.

"John, I need you to look at something I found-" He stopped in midsentence and faltered in front of the room. "Sorry, I didn't know you had a client. I'll wait outside."

"No, please, stay" His father offered a hand to the confused inspector. "I'm Hamish Watson. John's father."

"Wha-, John's... What?" The expression on his face would have been comical in any other situation. "John, you hadn't told me your father was visiting"

"That's because I didn't know my father was visiting." John sat in his armchair, unable to process all the resurfacing memories. Sherlock must have realized at least a part of what was happening beacuse he stood behind John and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly while subtly glaring at his father. He was most likely coming up in ways to harm him without it being illegal. Oh, who was he kidding? Like law would stop Sherlock.

"Yeah, I was released early because of good behaviour." Lestrade stiffened, finally realizing the tension in the room. Sherlock was starting to dislike the man more and more and was ready to throw him out in an instance in case he approaches John.

"Good behaviour, as in, you were in prison?" At that Lestrade received an 'are-you-dumb' look from Sherlock and an 'how-did-you-even-become-an-inspector' look from John. He did not get an answer.

"So, John, where's Harriet? I haven't seen her for a long time" His father's voice was calm and casual. It made John feel an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time: Fear. Crushing fear.

"I don't know, she's probably at home."

"Home? My little Harry has her own place now?" His eyes were full with pride and it upset John even more. "And is there any men in here life? She was so beautiful, she must have a thousand men swooning over her."

An awkward silence fell over the group.

"Well, she had someone, but they broke up with her..." John tried to tell him without saying too much, afraid of his father's reaction.

"How could he brake up with Harry? She's an angel!"

"It's not a 'he', Mr. Watson." Sherlock said, startling John who forgot he was even there.

That shocked John's father so much that he forgot to breathe for a second. John could recognize something equivalent to madness on his face. He knew what was going to happen next.

"You mean, Harry is one of those queers?" Hamish asked quietly, "My sweet little girl... What has the world done to her?

He turned his glare to John "You- Why didn't you do something? It is your job to protect your sister, John!"

"It is not a bad thing, dad. I had nothing to protect her from, she was born like that." John would never regret saying that, no matter the consequences.

"Oh, so you're telling me that you support that dirty sin? What, are you one of those fuckers, too?"At that, he barked out a laugh that contained no humor. He stopped laughing once he realized how uncomfortable John became. "No,..."

"I'm not gay, I'm-" That's when he choked up. Sherlock's hand was immediately back on his shoulders giving him the silent push he needed," I'm bisexual. It means I like women and men."

His father was silent for a few moments. And then, all hell broke loose.


	3. Chapter 3

I won't be, no I won't be like you  
Fighting back,  
I'm fighting back the truth

Eyes like yours can't look away  
But you can't stop DNA  
No, you can't stop DNA

John didn't see the first punch coming. Nor the second one. To be fair, he really should have known something like this was going to happen.

The pain came shortly after the shock. It seared through his nose and he could feel the blood dripping from his face. Everybody reacted before him.

Lestrade jumped and tackled Hamish while handcuffing him.

'Does he always bring handcuffs with him where ever he goes or is it just when Sherlock is around?' John thought while trying to stay conscious. Those punches really took a number on him.

Sherlock was telling him something but he couldn't understand him.

"John! John, are you okay?" He could finally hear Sherlock. He realized he ended up sitting on the floor sometime after the second punch. Huh.

In his periphery he could see his father shouting profanities and all kinds of insults he could come up with. He's quite creative when it comes to these kinds of things.

He rolled onto his knees and threw up in the decorative plant Mrs Hudson insisted on. His head was throbbing and he wasn't entirely sure what was happening around him.

This time, he didn't wake up in a hospital bed. He woke up in the bed he shared with Sherlock. There was a blanket covering him up and he was wearing a set of clothes John recognized as Sherlock's.

He was still quite dizzy and couldn't remember what happened. He got up with some trouble and walked over to a mirror where he saw why everything hurt so much.

There was a bandage over his nose that did nothing to hide the swelling under it. There was some bruising to his jaw and he had a huge black eye. He tried moving his jaw but stopped immediately when the pain increased.

The door to his room quietly opened. John turned around to see Sherlock standing in the entrance, havng stopped at the sight of John awake.

Seeing Sherlock made him remember what happened last night. After that there was just one thought circling around in his mind:

"Shit"

"What are you doing out of bed? Shouldn't you still be sleeping?"

"Umm.. I just, uh " John couldn't think focus enough to finish that sentence. His thoughts were all over the place and his head just. hurt. so . much.

Sherlock's arms found themselves around John's waist, lightly pushing him back to their bed. After he made John lay down again, he walked to the other side of the bed and laid down next to him while wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer so that John's head rested on his chest.

He repeatedly brushed his fingers through John's hair in a certain rhythm which helped relax John. That is, until he remembered something.

"Where's Harry? I need to warn her, he could have already done something... What if he did? Oh, God-" As John talked he began to get up, despite the pain that was throbbing in his head, until Sherlock pulled him back.

"Harry's fine, John. She's in the living room talking to Mrs. Hudson. She's going to be okay," At that he looked at John and met his eyes," And so will you"

They looked at each other for some time, their eyes talking without words as they both clung to each other scared that if they let go, the other will disappear. A knock made them look away.

John sat up when he saw Harry walk in. She looked at his face, his bruises, and immediately the tears slid down her face. She felt scared, she felt like a child again, afraid for herself, her brother, her family.

She ran to her brother who embraced and held her like he did so many years ago

A couple of days later,after his father went to jail again, John and Sherlock would sit on their sofas listening to the rain as John talked about everything he never dared to say. He told Sherlock about his father, his abuse, his mother, her death, his foster parents, the nightmares, the scars.

With every word, Sherlock would become more and more furious at the man who ruined his lover's life and more sure of the love he has for the brave man sitting in front of him.

As a tear slides down John's cheek and he wipes it off furiously, Sherlock swears to whoever is listening that he will have his revenge. After all, it is prison. A lot of bad things can happen to you in prison.


End file.
